


Equal In All Things

by deathwailart



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Male-Female Friendship, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the build-up to Altaïr and Maria's wedding so naturally she and Malik decide to have a chat on the roof as she escapes preparations.</p>
<p>Written for the prompt: Assassins Creed, Altaïr/Maria, how they decided to get married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equal In All Things

The closest they have to family is Malik and that works for both of them so many traditions they might have kept fall to the side and Maria has been through one wedding already and has told Altaïr in no uncertain terms that yes, she does want to marry him honestly Altaïr if she hadn't wanted this she would have been long gone but no, she's not going through with a load of pomp and circumstance. Fortunately, he's far too happy that they've reached this stage, that this is real and Malik has been even more of a hissing demon of late, glaring daggers at the master of Masyaf when he isn't throwing them just past his ears. All of Masyaf is something of a flutter with the news despite the fact that the wedding is a small affair, congratulations and blessings come from those across the Holy Land. It's only to Maria that Malik admits he's happy for them as he finds her escaping some sort of thing with dresses she has very little interest in, confiding that she'd quite happily wear a sack so long as they could just hurry the whole process along.  
  
"So how did he ask?" Malik asks himself one day when they're both sitting up on a roof out of the way (they can see people running around looking for Maria and not daring to tell the master they've lost his future wife and Malik likes Maria's smirk as she looks down on them) in the late afternoon sun.  
  
"In Cyprus that last time we were there, I wasn't really sure he'd asked at first. He was talking philosophy – as he tends to do with not even so much as half an ounce of provocation – but he gave me this expectant look and I asked him to repeat the question."  
  
"Are those why we had the rumours of a Cypriot wedding?"  
  
"Have you _seen_ their wedding gowns Malik? Where am I supposed to put a sword?"  
  
Malik likes Maria. Malik quite privately adores Maria as much as is possible for someone like him who isn't exactly blessed with any sort of patience for others. "So he repeated the question."  
  
"Picked apart whatever it was he'd been talking about, it's interesting but it had been a long day and I don't know where he finds the energy. But yes, what he'd been doing was asking me to spend the rest of our lives together." Maria's tone is a strange blend of 'why am I love with that ridiculous man' and 'honestly you would think for something like that he'd just _ask_ ' and Malik doesn't know if he wants to drag Altaïr up here to embrace him then shove him off the roof or if he wants to just hurl himself off.  
  
He had no idea what he was allowing back into his life that fateful day in Jerusalem and at times he almost misses when it was arrogance that fuelled their arguments and not deep mutual respect and a sense of friendship and brotherhood that's going to last the rest of their lives.  
  
Altaïr finds them when the sun is setting, dipping behind the mountains and bathing everything in a warm orange glow, Maria and Malik laughing about something so hard they look like they're in danger of falling off the roof. He watches them with a smile before he announces his presence – they both know he's there but he has no desire to intrude until they both wave him over and he comes to sit behind and between them, clasping Malik's shoulder as he kisses Maria.  
  
"Were there tears this time?" Maria asks innocently as the bells ring to signal a meal time, everyone outside filing in as others go to replace the guards on duty.  
  
"Yes, they were most apologetic at misplacing you," he replies, remembering just how he'd had to keep a straight face as he wondered how a wedding managed to make everyone lose their minds, at least a little, something Malik had accused him of already when clearly that wasn't the case.  
  
"Perhaps you should teach them to look _up_ ," Malik suggests and Maria leans over and hits him lightly.  
  
"Don't you dare, I'll never have a moment's peace again and I will tell them all of _your_ hiding spots when you just want peace to work on your maps."  
  
Altaïr watches them with the fondest of smiles until they both turn and stare at him with mutual fond disgusted horror until someone's stomach growls and they leave to one of their studies to eat in privacy (a closed door with one of them behind it means do not interrupt unless we are currently under attack) and talk. Maria recounts the wedding dress story once more and Malik is honestly just trying to irritate the both of them at the same time because it's what friends _do_ when he suggests she get married in Assassin robes.  
  
He doesn't expect Altaïr to latch on to the suggestion.  
  
Clearly a sign the novice's idiocy is contagious.  
  
Maria likes the idea though and Malik realises this is something he's not really privy to and something he's not going to understand – they all know she was married once before and they all know her time of being in the army, working her way up and only de Sable knowing her secret. They all know that she lost everything when de Sable's replacement didn't approve of a woman and Malik knows that women are rather thin on the ground within their own brotherhood, down to Al Mualim but to turn aside someone for such a thing is as foolish as it is deplorable. There are more young women within their ranks, no longer simply the concubines who wandered and gave the image Al Mualim wished but certainly, they are still there and deadly with a knife, with ears and eyes that learn all from powerful men. None of them know if they approve of this new part of the brotherhood but they cannot deny that they learn a great deal and it was the suggestion of those same women. Young women have come though, have asked to be able to defend themselves and other innocents and have looked at Maria with a level of awe – she's tall and confident, she wears her longsword at all time and wields it as though it's as natural as breathing.  
  
Perhaps the suggestion is a good one.  
  
"Equal," Altaïr muses aloud, "in all things."  
  
"Oh get out both of you before I lose my meal," Malik snaps, shooing them out of his study but he's smiling because they're his friends and he loves them. This is simply how he shows it.  
  
So when the day itself dawns and he's the one helping Altaïr get into his robes, snapping and prodding him (at least once with the point of a throwing knife) he has to remember that if only to keep from murdering his friend and brother. It's hard to resist the temptation – Altaïr is a nervous wreck, pacing and fidgeting and when Malik laughs he manages to look so betrayed and wounded that he apologises.  
  
"Do you think Maria is nervous?" Altaïr asks as Malik finally manages to get him ready.  
  
"Has Maria ever been nervous? Perhaps she wonders how she will manage, knowing she will wake up every morning for the rest of her life to look at your face. To sleep next to such a foolish novice. But no, not nervous." Malik grins sharply before he heads to the door, stops and turns. "She loves you brother. You are a lucky man."  
  
"I know," Altaïr replies solemnly but he's smiling, Malik can tell.  
  
"If you displease her, I will be more than happy to help dispose of you and to throw your rotting carcass into the water for the birds."  
  
"Thank you brother, your support means a great deal to me."  
  
As it turns out, Altaïr _is_ the most nervous one with Maria looking a little like she's suspicious about it all being a dream and Malik almost feels bad for watching them stand side by side in their robes of red and white saying their vows. But when they kiss, he knows his cheers are the loudest.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I'm deviating from canon in where they get married but I just really loved the idea of a Masyaf wedding with Malik being the best man quietly throwing knives at Altaïr's head during the ceremony.


End file.
